09-07-2020, 04:06 AM
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TYPHOON
NECRO MAMBAS
NECRO MAMBAS
[div style="width: px; font-family: GEORGIA; color: #422426; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px"][align=center]ARE YOU GOOD WITH CHAOS ?!
Leaving a trail of sloppy pawprints, the sleepy ocelot walked out onto the beach. The cool sand dusted her fur, and the chill breeze stirred her mind. Rosemary had slept poorly last night, tossing and turning in the Necro Mamba’s temple, until she gave up on sleeping at all once the sky brightened.
Spotting the two talking on the beach, Rosemary’s tail-tips twitched one after the other. She stopped. Her mind slowly weighed the pros and cons between walking around them versus changing direction entirely. All the while, the ocelot stared at them, until she shook off enough sleep to recognize her sister.
She trotted over to the two, almost tripping over the sand. “Vandal…?” Rosemary whispered.
“Hey, it’s been a while. You remember me, right? I’m Rosemary Roux.” The witch wanted to say more—really, she did—but she cut herself off. So much happened since Vandal went missing. Hell, she couldn’t even remember if Pincher had still been… alive. Would Vandal even remember her, after their brief friendship? Rosemary still remembered, cherishing the memories.
“You planning on staying?” she asked, sitting back on her haunches. Her forked tail flicked before wrapping around her body, and the ocelot glanced at her paws briefly. “And… you’re okay, right? Usually animals washing up on shore are a bit worse for wear.”
Rosemary glanced at Michael briefly. Right. Adopted brother to Roxanne. The two hadn’t actually interacted that much—at all, actually—thanks to Rosemary’s hermit existence in the past months. The witch considered reaching out to him as well, trying to form a proper bond… but she said nothing. Vandal had just returned, after all. Besides, men were… ugh, she couldn’t even sour her good mood at Vandal’s return by thinking on that age old issue.
[/td][/tr][/table]Spotting the two talking on the beach, Rosemary’s tail-tips twitched one after the other. She stopped. Her mind slowly weighed the pros and cons between walking around them versus changing direction entirely. All the while, the ocelot stared at them, until she shook off enough sleep to recognize her sister.
She trotted over to the two, almost tripping over the sand. “Vandal…?” Rosemary whispered.
“Hey, it’s been a while. You remember me, right? I’m Rosemary Roux.” The witch wanted to say more—really, she did—but she cut herself off. So much happened since Vandal went missing. Hell, she couldn’t even remember if Pincher had still been… alive. Would Vandal even remember her, after their brief friendship? Rosemary still remembered, cherishing the memories.
“You planning on staying?” she asked, sitting back on her haunches. Her forked tail flicked before wrapping around her body, and the ocelot glanced at her paws briefly. “And… you’re okay, right? Usually animals washing up on shore are a bit worse for wear.”
Rosemary glanced at Michael briefly. Right. Adopted brother to Roxanne. The two hadn’t actually interacted that much—at all, actually—thanks to Rosemary’s hermit existence in the past months. The witch considered reaching out to him as well, trying to form a proper bond… but she said nothing. Vandal had just returned, after all. Besides, men were… ugh, she couldn’t even sour her good mood at Vandal’s return by thinking on that age old issue.
© MADI
I FEEL SO HUNGRY —
— Dear diary, I don't know what's going on, but something's up / The dog won't stop barking, and I think my TV is bust / Every channel is the same, it's sending me insane / And earlier somebody bit me, what a fucking day / The sky is falling / It's fucking boring / I'm going braindead, isolated / God is a shithead / And we're his rejects / Traumatized for breakfast / I can't stomach any more survival horror / Dear diary, I feel itchy like there's bugs under my skin / The dog's gone rabid (shut the fuck up) / Doing my head in —— WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?